The Moon.

Oceans and Dust

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I sink into deep water and feel it form around me.

It embraces me as my body curls within it.

Both supported and free, I choose to hold, to linger,

To float as I sink deeper,

Away from the surface.

Cocooned and safe, the blood forms around me, a soft solidity.

I am myself, the water and the blood flowing from within,

Around me, cocooning and shielding.

This is the original self, the wild self,

The touch of blood, the knowledge within it.

The red gloss, my prints patterning through, splintering apart,

Mapping the maze.

The labyrinth of illusion, of beauty,

Of external expression, external self.

There’s a crescent in my womb, a horned bowl of bronze,

The caged bull that circles,

Embracing the walls for fear of getting lost in the dark.

The horned bowl drips crimson blood, golden blood, moon blood,

And…

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